Drunk Girl
by Andie01
Summary: He took a drunk girl home and changed her life.


"I can't believe you," I scream, throwing a boot at the scurrying man.

"Baby, it was an accident," he pleads, ducking.

"An accident?!" The matching boot zips towards his head. "What? Did you slip and fall, and your dick just fell into her?"

"Can I explain?"

"There is nothing to fucking explain," I scream, my crystal paperweight crashes against the wall beside his head. "The only thing you need to do is get out of my condo. Get your shit, gather your unconscious whore from the living room, and get out. Anything you leave here will be burned including the whore. Go now."

"Micha…"

"Get the fuck out before I kick your ass like I did that blonde bitch."

"Micha, please."

"I've wasted two years listening to your lies and excuses." His whore's stilettoes hit him in the center of the chest. "I'm not wasting another second," I growl. "Go."

"You're making a mistake."

"You were my mistake."

"Bitch," he snarls.

"Whore," I throw over my shoulder as I make my way to the kitchen.

Leaning against the kitchen counter I stare out the picture window at the city lights as the piece of scum rustles through his things. "Don't you let him see you cry," I think, blinking back tears. "He doesn't deserve the satisfaction." "Leave your key," I state as he makes his way through the kitchen towards the laundry room.

His jaw clenches.

"Now," I snap my fingers. "Leave it on the island."

Keys jingle as he removes the key from his keychain before the distinct click of metal on granite echoes through the room.

"Happy?"

"Very. Now get the fuck out."

Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I chug it before tossing the bottle into the recycling. "I need something stronger," I mutter to no one. "And a lot of it."

X

It takes every ounce of my concentration to walk the few feet to the corner of the fifth…or maybe it was the sixth, maybe even the seventh… bar. The bouncer, a large intimidating man with skull and roses tattoo on his bulging bicep peeking out of the sleeve of his tee, wasn't too keen to let me in but after a promise that I was done drinking for the night and just wanted to dance I was allowed to melt into the crowd. Hours on the dance floor has me feeling worse not better. "This is not a good start for my trek," I moan, leaning my shoulder against the brick wall. "Where did I leave the car," I think. The thought of hitting a diner to sober up before driving home seeming too daunting now. The thought of just sleeping off the liquor in the car seems a wonderful solution to my problem.

"What do we have here," a voice questions.

My eyes come up to land on the word security on the front of the man's shirt. "I'm leaving," I mutter. "Just trying to remember where I left the car."

"I know exactly where mine is, Sweetheart. I am more than willing to give you a ride."

"No thanks."

"You look like you've hit up quite a few establishments tonight," he grins, his thumb stroking over the cover charge stamps along the back of my hand. "It wouldn't be wise to let you wonder off. I could lose my job."

Something about his voice sends warning bells off even through the liquor fog. "I'm fine, really. Just heading to Rich's Diner."

"Thought you were heading to your car?"

"That's at the diner," I lie.

"I'll take you."

"I said no," I snap, pushing wobblily off the wall. "Excuse me," I try to push past."

"You either go with me or I call the cops for public intoxication," he shoves me back against the wall. My head cracks against the bricks. "Make your choice."

"Call the cops."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You wanna play hard ba…" He suddenly backs away and I turn to stare at the roses of the tattoo as the bouncer emerges from the alley.

"You heard her, Dolph," he growls. "Call the cops. I want to hear you explain why you're back to your old habits of taking advantage of drunk girls. And why you are trespassing on Vince's property."

The other guy takes another step back.

"Just what I thought," the bouncer chuckles. "Same scared little boy that got fired. Take your shit somewhere else." My view is obstructed by a massive back as the bouncer steps in front of me. "I thought you promised not to drink anymore," he grumbles after a few seconds. "Your exact words being: I'm done with the drama and the liquor, I just wanna dance, Bub."

"I didn't drink here," I protest.

"Yeah, right. Whatever you say, Drunk Girl," he smirks, turning.

"I did not."

"Can you stand?"

"What?" The change in subject jarring.

"You've been leaning on that wall since I showed up. Can you stand?"

"Yes," I grumble, pushing off the wall. My knees protest the movement by buckling.

"I'm calling you a cab," he smirks, leaning me back against the wall.

"No money."

"How do you get shit faced with no money?"

"Boobs," I grin, allowing my leather jacket to slide from my shoulders.

"I believe you," he states, covering me back up.

"Plus, I have Daddy's credit card."

"So, a rich drunk girl," he sighs, hands digging into my jacket pockets.

"I never said I was rich," I growl, slapping his hands away.

"In my experience, only rich girls call it 'Daddy's credit card'," he smirks, reaching for my pockets again.

"Dad is the rich one," I knock his hand away again. "I'm just the mistake he keeps comfortable."

"I'm looking for your keys and ID," he explains, reaching a third time.

"You won't find them," I mutter, reaching into the inside pocket of my jacket. "Rookie move keeping your shit in your outside pocket." Pulling my keys out, I hold them between us. "Do I look like I want to be pick-pocketed?"

"ID?"

"I'm old enough to drink," I grin up at him.

"I just want your address," he sighs.

"Why?"

"So, I can get you home safely." He snatches the keys from my hand.

"Why do you care?"

"Not a clue," he grunts. "Which part of the rainbow did you start at?"

"Huh?"

He holds up my stamp covered hand.

"Uh…Enzo's?"

"Why would a girl like you go to that shit hole," he mutters.

"Cheap booze. Easy guys," I sigh. "I got over a handful of drinks from the owner himself before he realized I was playing him."

"So, you're one of those girls? Leading guys on with no intention of following through."

"Just tonight," I mutter, fighting against my heavy eyelids.

Geez," he grumbles. Suddenly I'm taken off my feet, a pressure against my stomach.

"What is happening," I think stupidly. "You know exactly what is happening. You are being carried off by some strange man so he can do God knows what with you." I fight against the fog and heaviness. Opening my eyes, I stare down the back of the man, his ass flexing with each step. "Nice ass," I mutter.

"Thank you," he chuckles and I feel my face heat up. I tend to say anything that pops in my head while drinking.

"I kinda wanna bite it," I continue. "Oh my god, shut up Micha."

"Please don't," he chuckles. A deep rumble emanates from his stomach.

"You're hungry. Oh jeez, this is your dinner time isn't it?" I struggle to pull myself up and over his shoulder. "Taco truck. Let's get some tacos."

"No."

"I'll pay. Whatever you want. I owe you."

"No."

"Tacos. Tacos. Tacos. Tacos," I chant.

"You can't stand. Let alone order food."

"So, hold me, you're doing that anyway. I can carry on a conversation so I can order food. Come on, I'm starving."

"Should have thought about that before you got shit faced."

"Are you really too proud to accept a meal from me?"

I'm met with silence.

"Fine. Put me down. Put me down. I want food. So thank you for your time and effort but I'll end it here."

"Fine," he sets me on my feet. "I'll wait here."

X

"I can't believe you bought that monster burrito for me," he growls.

"You're a big boy. I thought you could handle it," I shrug. The food in my system only lightening the fog in my head slightly, plus it was allowing the pain in my chest to return.

"That's not the point," he sighs, pulling into my spot. The car's GPS guiding him to my place.

"What is the point?"

"I told you not to…"

"No. I mean, what is the point of life," I growl, gathering my discarded shoes from the floor. "You know, you spend years sharing your life with someone," I state stumbling from the car and towards the complex. "You really give yourself to this person. That one," I point to the key as we reach the outer door. "You give your everything to them. Your goddamn everything. And they destroy everything you ever handed to them. Elevator," I point. "I'm not talking a little damage. They destroy it. They destroy you," he guides me onto the elevator and I hit the button for my floor. "And you keep finding the idiots that only know how to destroy. What's the point of that life?"

"The point is, there is someone out there that knows how not to destroy you," he sighs helping me off the elevator and towards the door I point to. "Someone who would never even think of destroying what you give them."

"Not in my experience," I mutter taking the keys from him and unlocking the door. "My experience is men destroy," I sigh tossing my shoes beside the door and shrugging off my jacket. "Not including you in that general statement."

"Thank you, I guess," he mutters as I toss my jacket towards the couch. I hear it hit the floor but can't find it in myself to care.

"Every man that I have invited into this place has destroyed me in one way or the other." My dress hits the floor as I make my way into the master bedroom. "And I allow it to happen every time." Pulling an oversized shirt over my head, I trudge towards the guest room. "I'm so fucking pathetic it isn't even funny."

"Hey," he wraps an arm around my midsection stopping me. "You need to lay down."

"Not in that bed. I'm not sleeping in there until I burn that fucking bed," I state, blinking away tears.

"Okay," he states softly releasing me. If you're good I'm going to go."

I throw a thumbs-up over my shoulder as I plop face first onto the guest bed. "Thank you…I don't even know your name," I mutter against the bedding.

"It's Konnor," he sighs pulling a blanket over me.

"Thank you, Konnor," is the last thing I remember as sleep pulls me into the abyss.

X

A pounding headache wakes me. "Fuck," I moan, immediately slapping a hand over my mouth. "Not so loud, you idiot," I think. Standing on shaky legs, I stumble to the kitchen and the fridge. I had downed two bottles of water and opened the third when I noticed the slip of paper peeking out from beneath my phone and keys.

"Drunk Girl,

Not all of us are destroyers. You just have to find the difference between a boy and a man.

Hope you find your happiness.

Left my number in your phone. Give me a call if you find yourself drinking your way through downtown again.

Konnor aka Bouncer

Picking up my phone, I scroll through the contacts until I land on the simple one name entry. _Konnor_. Suddenly everything that spilled out of me as we arrived here last night flashes through my head. It feels like all the blood in my body rushes to my face. "My god, why do I always run my mouth when I'm drunk?" The next thought that zips through my mind has the blood rushing to my feet. "I left a strange man alone in my place and passed out." Rushing to the living room, I find everything in place. In fact, the room is immaculate, not a trace of the scuffle from last night can be seen. My dress lays folded neatly on the couch, my jacket beside it, and shoes sit beside the couch. Reaching into my jacket, I find my ID and credit card. Hitting the new contact, I wait as it rings. "What exactly are you going to say? Thank you for not robbing me?"

Finally, his rumbling voice fills the line. "You got Konnor. You know what to do." The shrill beep that follows ratchets the pain in my head.

"Hey Konnor, it's Micha…Uh…Drunk Girl. I just realized this is probably like your midnight so I hope I didn't wake you and…Well, anyway, I just wanted to…to thank you for…uh…I guess for everything last night. You went well beyond what…um…what was required of you. I owe you, man." Ending the call, I flop on the couch. "Not in that bed. I'm not sleeping in there until I burn that fucking bed." The words float through my head like a dream followed by the image of the man I had loved sprawled naked, a satisfied grin on his face until his eyes open to find me. Scrolling through the list of contacts again, I press my father's work number. "Flair Industries, if you know your party's extension…"

I interrupt the spiel tapping my father's extension in.

"Hello," my father's voice catches me off-guard. I had been prepared for his voicemail.

"Working your way through the weekend again, I see," I sigh.

"This place won't run itself," he chuckles. "What can I do for you, Micha?"

"Caught Kevin with a trashy blonde. I don't know if he took the spare key. Can I get the locks changed?"

"Of course, Micha. Anything else?"

"A new bed."

"And?"

"That's it. I'll pay you back."

"Not necessary.""

"I'll see you tomorrow at work," I mumble. "Thank you for the help." Ending the call before he can respond, I throw my arm over my eyes. Thankfully it is Sunday, so I don't have any plans for the day because sleep is already pulling at me back into its embrace.

X

"So, you lost another one?"

I look up to find my half-sister. "Charlotte. I see the rumor is alive and well around here," I mutter gathering the copies from the machine. "Although it is a little behind. Kevin has been gone for three weeks"

"So this is, what, the sixth guy in as many years."

"Ten years," I mutter. "And you're one to talk. You go through men like water."

"But that's my choice."

"Just like it's my choice to have relationships instead of being a hoe like my sister."

She flips me off as exit the copy room.

"Drunk Girl," someone calls.

"Someone, really? You know someone else that calls you drunk girl," I think turning. I find myself drawn back to McMahon's and the large man for the last two weeks. I spend most of my nights nursing a couple drinks and bad bar food, people watching. Most nights I leave well before last call but the few nights I stayed I dragged the man to a random diner and feed him. His stomach always growling, although he protests the food every time. "Do not call me that here, Bouncer," I state pulling him into a random empty office. "What the hell happened to your face?" A dark bruise covers one jaw, dried blood crusts the center of his bottom lip.

"One of your destroyers showed up at my place and sucker punched me."

"What?"

"Your latest ex, I'm assuming. He's been harassing me at work and he must have followed me home."

"Fuck Konnor," I sigh, staring at the ceiling. "Why didn't you tell me before this?"

"You didn't need to know. He just ran his mouth a lot. Seems to think we're…I just came by to warn you to keep an eye on your surroundings."

"I could stay the same to you," I smirk, brushing my thumb over his split lip. "I thought you fought for a living."

"If I do my job correctly, I don't have to fight," he winces, pulling away.

"I'll alert the complex security," I sigh dropping my eyes to his hands. His knuckles are busted so he got in some good shots too.

He snorts. "They are useless."

"Are you questioning the abilities of my home security."

"No. Because that would require them to have some sort of abilities. Just watch your back. He might turn his attention to you. Maybe stay away from the bar."

"Change my life because an ex is a fucking ass. Sounds about right," I mutter. "I guess I'll see you when I see you, Bouncer. I have work to do," I sniff. "The men's room is right by the elevators, clean the dried blood off before you leave at least."

The thought of not seeing the man settles in my chest like a rock. Shaking the thought from my head, I head into the conference room to organize for the upcoming meeting.

X

I lay in the bed staring at the ceiling. Sleep not coming despite being exhausted. I felt jumpy in this empty place. The week and a half since my conversation with Konnor leaving me despondent. I missed the conversations from McMahon's. The bartender, Xavier, keeping me in stitches most nights. The waitresses stopping by various times throughout the night to have conversations with me. The other bouncer Viktor teasing me gently about my relationship with Konnor. Konnor usually joins me on his scarce breaks to check on my sobriety and chat. I always looked forward to those scarce fifteen minutes conversations the most. "Fuck Micha, you can't fall for this faux caring bullshit. Do you ever learn your lesson? It's the same shit over and over and you let it happen every time." Glancing at the clock, the bright white numbers scream three a.m. at me. "Fuck it. Another night with no sleep it is. Not like I have to work tomorrow. Today," I correct, pulling myself from the bed. Padding my way to the kitchen, I start the coffee before pulling myself up onto the counter. Planting my feet in the sink, I stare out the large window at the city and wait for the sunrise. The rumble of the beat-up truck pulling in the parking lot reaches me even as high up as I am. The truck always lurking around the building in the mornings when I leave for work recently. Never anywhere to be seen when I return home but always there by the next morning. "I am so sick of this creep," I growl, jumping from the counter and stalking back to my bedroom. "Probably Kevin anyway," I mutter, tugging on a pair of jeans and grabbing the aluminum bat from beside the door. "What do you want bastard," I scream, approaching the truck. "Show your damn face."

"Calm down, Drunk Girl," Konnor sighs, wiping his mouth. A greasy burger wrapper crushed in his hand.

This is your hunk of junk?"

"Not all of us can drive Daddy's hand-me-downs, Ms. Flair."

"That's not my name," I growl.

"But it is who you are."

"Yes, I'm Ric Flair's daughter. I can't change that but it's not who I am. Now why are you sitting in my parking lot for hours on end?"

"I told you, the security here is useless."

"So, what, you come and sit here after work?"

"Maybe," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"So, you close down the bar and drive across town to sit in the cold."

"I bought a burger," he states weakly, tossing the wrapper into the back of the truck.

"I leave for work at seven. You sit out here until seven?"

"Yeah."

"Get your big ass upstairs," I grumble, heading back towards the building. "Come on," I call when he doesn't move.

"Micha…"

"How long have you known," I interrupt.

"Known?"

"About my father?"

"Almost three weeks."

"What do you want?"

His forehead furrows as he studies me.

"Once guys figure out who my father is, it's all about what they can get out of me. So just tell me, what do you want?"

Caging me against the wall, he leans down so we are eye to eye. "Do not group me in with every other man that has entered your life. We are not all the same. You just attract douches." Pushing away from the wall as the elevator comes to a stop. "After you," he sighs as the doors open.

"So why do you take it upon yourself to associate yourself with the rich drunk girl," I ask opening my door.

"Honestly," he sighs, following me through the condo. "I had no idea at first. Thought you were just another drunk. I stayed because you're a persistent bitch," he grins, seating himself on a barstool along my kitchen counter. "You consistently pushed your way into my life. And you're just funny enough for me to let you stay. You're consistently kind. Always force feeding me."

"Someone has to. You're a big guy and your stomach is always growling," I smirk, placing coffee on the counter beside him. "So, I know you're not eating enough."

"Most people wouldn't care."

"I'm not most people."

"No, Drunk Girl, you're not," he smiles.

"Plus, I remember what it's like to be hungry."

"Sure," he glances around.

"My father spent years in court for custody. My mother tried but, like someone else I know, she was to proud to accept help. She would rather go without than admit her low paying job wasn't enough. Some days we didn't have anything in the house to eat. Some months we went without heat and water. But she always found a way to hide those facts when it came inspection time, even surprise inspections. Father finally got his leverage when she was arrested shoplifting a couple cans of soup. I was eight at the time. Yes, I know what it's like to go hungry despite being a 'rich Daddy's girl'," I sniff. "The fact that I have money now just means I have the ability to make sure no one feels that way." Resuming my spot on the counter, I face the window again. "The fact that I have multiple step-mothers who tire easily of the homes Father buys hem got me this condo and this view."

"Do you always sit with your feet in the sink?"

"My place," I shrug. "I'll do what I want."

"Heathen," he chuckles, pulling the barstool up beside me."

X

It had been six months since that night. I had decided to give him my trust, to let him try to prove that he shouldn't be lumped in with the men of my past. "As a friend," I always reminded myself. "You don't need the drama of another failed relationship." I had left the big man snoring on my couch as I left to run errands the following day, a note on the table next to his phone informing him to perform his guard duties from the living room from now on. I had taped the spare key to the bottom.

"Micha, your trashy boyfriend is here," Charlotte calls around the office door, pulling me from my thoughts.

"He's not my…you know what you never listen, I'm not wasting my breath. He's definitely not trashy."

"He's a bouncer at a strip club," she scoffs.

"Bar," I snap, joining her in the reception area. She barely glances up from filing her nails. "Working for a living doesn't make you trashy. You should try it and see for yourself."

"He's out there," she points with the file. "Been pacing."

Glancing at the opaque glass wall to see the hulking silhouette of my friend and roommate pacing from one end to the other.

"Hey," I smile up at him as I join him in the hallway. "Something wrong?"

"Someone tried to break into the condo," he rushes.

"What?"

"The door frame was busted when I woke up."

"Did you tell security?"

"Fat lot of good that did. They said they'll look into it. Have maintenance fix the door. Blah, blah, blah."

"Did you hear anything?"

"No."

"Then we're just going to have to trust them. I know," I hold up a hand when he opens his mouth, "that is a very difficult thing for you to do but it is our only option."

He huffs out a growl.

"I know. I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah," he mutters as I pull him into an awkward hug.

"Be careful at work," I smile before slipping back through the door.

X

Despite my words to Konnor, every little movement around me had me jumping out of my skin on my way home. I looked every direction before entering the building, exiting the elevator, or walking past the open stairwell door. I study the frame around my door for any signs of weakness as I slide the key into the lock.

"Micha, Dear…"

The sudden words have me almost literally climbing the wall. Turning, I find my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Martin. "Mrs. Martin, hello."

"Jumpy, Dear?"

"Apparently someone tried to break in sometime this afternoon. Konnor has me on high alert."

"I understand, Sweetheart," she smiles kindly. "Everyone loves that, boy."

"It's very hard not to love Konnor," I return the smile.

"I have actually made him a little something," she winks, placing a wonderfully sweet-smelling platter in my hands.

"I'm sure he will love it. I'll be sure to put it directly in his room so I'm not tempted."

"Speak of the handsome devil," she grins as the elevator opens.

Konnor slinks from inside, stopping in his tracks at the sight of me. "Hey," he mutters.

"Hey. Why aren't you at work?"

"Sick," he states, forcing a fake cough.

"Liar," I state, opening the door. "Inside."

"Why are you really here?"

"You want to be here alone until three in the morning."

"Not exactly but that doesn't answer my question."

"I wasn't going to leave you alone."

"Are you always going to be my knight in shining armor?"

"Until you send me away," he grins. "And I bought dinner," he holds up a bag.

"Mrs. Martin baked you something sweet."

"I guess you better get in the shower so we can eat," he grins, shoving me gently towards the bathroom.

"Can you grab one of my shirts from the dryer?"

"I would if you had remembered to move your clothes into the dryer," he calls after me. "I'll grab you one of mine."

X

I doze on the couch, my head pillowed on Konnor's thigh. "We need more nights like this," I sigh. "This is nice."

"Agreed," he chuckles, his hand combing through my hair.

"There's always Sundays."

"If Daddy doesn't plan many weekend meetings."

I release a contented sigh as his fingers move down to rub circles along my shoulder.

"I'm so glad I ended up at McMahon's."

He hums.

"I'm serious," I smile up at him. "I wouldn't have met you. I would still be attracting douches."

"Are you calling me a douche deterrent?"

"You are the douche deterrent," I grin. "And I love you for it."

His fingers pause in their movements. "Don't say that," he whispers, his face turned.

Sitting up, I pull myself up on my knees beside him. "I didn't mean to upset you. What did I say wrong? That you're a douche deterrent?"

"No."

My brow furrows. "That I love you?"

"Don't."

"Don't what? Say that I love you."

"Micha," he shifts to stand and I push him back, straddling his leg.

Grabbing his chin, I force him to look at me. "I love you, Konnor."

"As a friend."

I close my eyes against the pain that phrase sends whipping through me. "As whatever you'll let me. I need you in my life to remind me that I deserve better than what I've been settling for. I need…" the rest of that thought disappears as his lips clash into mine, the kiss desperate and hungry. I brace myself against his shoulders as my head spins.

"I shouldn't have done that," he pants as we break apart for air. "Micha, I'm so…"

I press a finger to his lips. "You should have done that because I never would have had the courage to." Cupping his cheek, I pull him towards me again. "I fucking love you."

The second kiss is softer, one hand slides up my thigh, the other sliding up my spine holding me against his chest.

"I love you," he breathes against my lips. "Fuck, you have no idea how much I love you."

"Show me," I smirk.

The groan that escapes him as he peels the shirt over my head is the sexiest sound I have ever heard. "This old thing was the only thing keeping you from me," he questions, the shirt in question crushed in his hand. His opposite hand dragging a finger down my bare sternum as his eyes sweep down my naked body.

"Usually," I smile.

"I'm a fucking idiot," he mutters, tossing the shirt over the back of the couch. His mouth lowering to my collarbones. "All I had to do was kiss the girl of my dreams and I get this," he states against my skin. One hand slides lightly up and down my spine, the other massages my thigh.

"Been dreaming about me, Bouncer?"

His nose skims along my skin as he nods, his hands coming to rest on my hips.

Dragging his shirt over his head, I press a kiss over his pec. "What have you been dreaming about?"

He takes a stuttering breath as I move down his torso.

"Hmmm," I hum sliding to the floor between his knees. "Tell me." I mouth over the bulge in his shorts and he jumps.

"No," he bites out, pulling me up his body. "Not tonight. It's…it's been a while. I want this to be perfect for you."

He settles me down against the cushions before positioning his torso between my thighs.

"Anything you do will be per…oh, I sigh as his lips ghost over my ribs.

"There it is," he chuckles, kissing the ticklish spot along my ribs in earnest. "My beautiful, ticklish, kind, funny, and amazing drunk girl."

"You're perfect, Konnor."

"You haven't seen anything yet," he grins, draping my legs over his shoulders. His head dips running a flat tongue up my slit and I arch up. His hands hold me open as he sucks and licks at me like a man having his first meal in years.

"Fuck," I groan and he growls into me. "My god," I pant as the vibrations send me closer to the edge.

"God," he chuckles, crawling up my body. "I like my new nickname." He aligns himself with my entrance, looking at me for permission.

I nod, wrapping my legs around his waist. "Please."

He pushes forward slowly, his forehead dropping to mine, breathing out a held breath.

"Like I said," I purr, my body adjusting to his size. "Perfect."

"Don't talk to me about perfect," he whispers, setting a slow, deep rhythm. Dropping his mouth to my throat. "Not laying here beneath me like this. Feeling like you were fucking made for me." He sucks a mark at a base of my throat. "Feeling like a dream come to life."

His heated words stoke the fires inside me.

Gripping his shoulder I feel the tense muscles along his back, I pull him even closer. "So close," I pant against his ear, nipping his lobe. "Let go, Konnor. It's okay."

"Yeah," he grunts.

"Yes. Fuck," I moan as his hips speed up. "Yes. Yes. Yes. God fucking yes." I am practically clinging to his wide torso as he slams into me. The coil in my stomach tightening with every stroke. Finally it snaps, my body trembling with the release. "Konnor," I groan, leaving my own mark against his collarbone.

"Mi…" The end of my name is lost in a strangled grunt, his hips snapping into my one last time. "Fuck," he pants capturing my lips.

"You are fucking amazing," I mumble as he tucks us side by side on the couch.

"Look who's talking," he sighs against the top of my head.

"You showed me the difference between a boy and a man. I think I finally found my happiness."

"Hmmm?"

Reaching out I pull the slip of paper from its hiding spot on the coffee table holding it up for him.

"My note?"

I nod. "You are my happiness. Thank you, Konnor."

"No, thank you, Drunk Girl," he kisses the top of my head. "For being you. For becoming my whole life."


End file.
